Confrontation
by SAMtheAvenger
Summary: Let's sum up this situation in words and small phrases; Steve. Tony. Sleep deprivation. Hot chocolate. Alcohol. Howard. Box. That should do. Confused!Steve/Angsty!Tony/Box/BondingTime


**Let's sum up this situation in words and small phrases; Steve. Tony. Sleep deprivation. Hot chocolate. Alcohol. Howard. Box. That should do. **

**Confused!Steve/Angsty!Tony/Box/BondingTime**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers...though I should have some hot chocolate downstairs.**

_**Confrontation**_

It was another sleepless night for Steve. His mind was restless, leaving him agitated. He looked at the alarm clock on his bedside drawer; 2:49 am. Brilliant. He'd been lying here for a good three hours whilst sleep happily evaded him. Deciding he had grown tired of staring at the ceiling, Steve got up and walked out to the living area of Stark Tower. The Avengers had all slowly and wordlessly begun to take residence like Tony had off-handedly suggested.

Tony. There was another thing that evaded him. Well, he supposed, not _evaded_ per say, but the man was confusing to say the least.

At first, Steve was uncomfortable around him; this was _Howard's son_\- he didn't really know how to go about interacting with him. That quickly wore off when he was met with Tony's snarky, arrogant, egotistical, nickname-giving, pop-culture-referencing self, and was replaced with irritation. The Battle of New York gave them a bit more of an even ground but they would often clash against each other.

Steve didn't know what it was; he'd say it was because he wasn't 'sciencey' but Tony didn't clash with Natasha or Clint or Thor like he did with him. Maybe it was because they were so different, personality-wise? They seemed to have really different viewpoints of...everything.

But then there was the box.

It was filled with Howard's things and a few of his own; pictures, notebooks, schematics. Just sitting on Steve's bed when he got back from his meeting with Fury.

He knew Tony had left the box. No one else would have access.

Steve looked up from his mug of hot chocolate at the sound of footsteps.

Brown eyes met blue before pausing. A simple nod was given to Steve before the eye contact broke.

"Whatcha doin' up, Cap?" Steve watched Tony look over bottles of scotch.

"Couldn't sleep. You?"

"Workin' on some upgrades." The conversation died there. It took a good five minutes for Steve for grow uncomfortable enough in the silence to speak up.

"So um, Tony, about the box-"

"Think nothing of it, Cap; it was collecting dust, figured you'd make better use of it." Tony waved him off, gazing out of the large windows, glass in hand.

"Thanks Tony but I couldn't keep all his things. A lot of the stuff in there was Howard's."

"Not getting your point there Cap." Was it just him, or did Tony's jaw just clench?

"It's your Dad's stuff, I can't just keep it!"

"Really? 'Cause that's kinda why I gave it to you."

"Why wouldn't you want your Dad's things?"

"Why do you care?" Tony was glaring at him now.

"Because he's your father Tony-"

"Really?! 'Cause he never seemed like much of one!" He slammed down his glass on the counter. Steve's stare softened slightly as he took in the man's words.

"He was a good man Tony." He said evenly. Tony let out a dry chuckle in response.

"Maybe when you knew him. All I remember is a man who never had time for his kid. Not when he said his first word, took his first steps, built his first robot, lost his Mom, graduated MIT...never. There's _nothing_ for me in that box." Tony levelled a hard glare on him, grabbed a bottle of vodka and left the room. Steve could only stare after him.

Could it be...? He'd never considered it... Was Howard such a terrible father that Tony wanted nothing to do with him? Was that why Tony was so hot and cold with him? He must just be a constant reminder of Howard for him.

Steve sat in that spot for half an hour, hot chocolate now considerably less hot and quite forgotten, before he stood up. He looked around the room before turning nervously to the ceiling.

"Um... JARVIS..?" He was still getting used to talking to the ceiling.

"Yes Captain Rodgers?"

"Uh could you tell me where Tony is?"

"Mr Stark is currently on the roof of the tower; would you like me to take you there?"

"Um yes please, thank you JARVIS."

"My pleasure, Captain Rodgers." With that, the elevator doors slid open, waiting for him.

The trip up was short and when the doors opened, Steve was met with a cool breeze and New York at night. Tony was sat against the railing, legs dangling off the edge. Steve walked over slowly and wordlessly sat down next to him. Tony didn't acknowledge his presence, just kept taking swigs of vodka every so often. It was almost 4.40 am, if Steve had to guess, when Tony spoke.

"I... I didn't mean to..blow up back there...wasn't fair to you."

"It's okay, I shouldn't have pushed you like that." There was another pause.

"You know, he never stopped looking for you." Steve waited for him to continue, patiently. "I used to idolise you as a kid," he laughed slightly, almost bitterly. "When I got older, I started hating that Dad payed more attention to you than he ever did to me... Then I just started hating him." Tony said somberly. He turned his gaze to Steve, still facing the city. "I don't hate you Steve, I hate _him_. I'm sorry but I do." Steve turned towards Tony.

"I'm glad I woke up now, almost seventy years later- I'm glad I got to know you. I'm sorry he became the man you hate. I'm glad you talked to me." Tony scoffed lightly.

"Yeah, don't expect this often- the only reason I vented was the combination of caffeine, alcohol and sleep deprivation." Steve smirked slightly.

"Fair enough." They sat there watching the sunrise in silence.

**_Fini._**

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**Hey guys! I'm here with an Avengers one shot that I wrote as a sort of spur of the moment thing- took a few hours but I got there! Not much to say except that I do hope you like this, I'd love for you to review and tell me what you think, faves and follows are warmly welcomed and yeah! Happy reading! Lates.**


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